


a many splintered thing

by spiritcrest



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Corsetry, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, tightlacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritcrest/pseuds/spiritcrest
Summary: Ferdinand inhales as he feels the first pull of the laces tugging the stiffened brocade to meet at his back, savoring the familiar embrace of the slowly tightening fabric around his torso, the faint brush of long fingers at the skin of his shoulders. Hubert is methodical, careful, taking his leisure in pulling thread through grommet at a steady rhythm. Bottom, middle, top, middle, bottom, middle, top, middle. Ferdinand relaxes into the sound of satin pulling against steel, letting his eyelids shutter closed.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 6
Kudos: 93





	a many splintered thing

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been wanting to write tightlacing for a while, and then [this fanart](https://twitter.com/atanalerectida/status/1246107308305702912) by [@atanalerectida](https://twitter.com/atanalerectida) came up on my TL and I just. Had to.

Ferdinand inhales as he feels the first pull of the laces tugging the stiffened brocade to meet at his back, savoring the familiar embrace of the slowly tightening fabric around his torso, the faint brush of long fingers at the skin of his shoulders. Hubert is methodical, careful, taking his leisure in pulling thread through grommet at a steady rhythm. Bottom, middle, top, middle, bottom, middle, top, middle. Ferdinand relaxes into the sound of satin pulling against steel, letting his eyelids shutter closed. Hubert gathers his long hair in one hand, laying it over his shoulder, and Ferdinand can feel the smile on his lips when he leans in to press them to the nape of his neck.

The next tug on the laces is _sharp_ . Ferdinand can’t help the sound of surprise that leaves his mouth, bracing himself against the dresser, caught off-balance with the force of it. Hubert is still smiling against the skin of his neck as he trails lips down the exposed side of his throat. He pulls again, and there, _there_ is that feeling of compression, that tight, restricting sensation he had come to crave. Hubert evens out the laces before yanking at the pull loops again and Ferdinand hums, gripping tighter at the wood of the dresser. He looks up, meets Hubert’s eyes in the vanity mirror, sees the darkening behind pale green irises.  
  
“Tighter,” he finally says, keeping eye contact, and Hubert _pulls_. Ferdinand groans, and Hubert’s lips are back at his throat, nipping at the skin there as he readies the laces anew. The press of boning and stiff brocade around his waist is exquisite, the whisper of warm breath against his skin divine. He reaches one hand back to grip at the base of Hubert’s neck, melting against the warmth of the chest at his back, the firm hands at his waist.

“Tighter,” he breathes again. Hubert obeys, pressing one hand between Ferdinand’s shoulder blades, winding the ribbon around the palm of the other. He gives the satin ribbon a firm, sustained tug, and Ferdinand sighs, eyelids fluttering as he savors the tight, breathless sensation. Hubert gives one final pull and Ferdinand’s hands fall back to the dresser, steadying himself, breathing just a bit strained, just enough to have his entire body humming with excitement.

He feels Hubert tying off the satin ribbons and turns in his arms, pulling him down with one hand on either side of his face, brushing their lips together in a firm kiss. He runs his tongue across Hubert’s bottom lip, pulls it between his teeth. Hubert rewards him with a satisfied hum and pries Ferdinand’s mouth open, pressing inside.

Ferdinand moans into the embrace, wrapping an arm around Hubert’s shoulders as gloved hands run their way up and down the fabric of the corset, exploring the way it hugs the figure beneath. Ferdinand presses his other hand to Hubert’s chest, fussing with the buttons there, eager to pull off the crisp white fabric and expose the pale expanse of skin beneath. 

Hubert grabs him by the waist and they tumble backward to the bed. He sits up and Ferdinand immediately straddles his hips, trapping slim thighs beneath his own as he pushes the shirt off his shoulders.

“This look is entirely too natural on you,” Hubert drawls, faint hint of a smirk on his lips. He rest gloved hands on Ferdinand’s hips, teasing the lip of the garment, and Ferdinand preens at the attention. 

“Mmm,” Ferdinand hums, pressing insistent kisses to those smiling lips, thankful for Hubert’s height in his state of limited mobility. He runs hands down the expanse of his chest, coming to rest at the hem of his breeches, fingering the edge of the fabric. “You have grown so efficient at lacing me in,” he says when they part, “I was almost sad for it to be done.”

“Almost?” Hubert quirks an eyebrow. 

“Almost,” Ferdinand repeats, leaning back down to press their lips together as he dips his hand beneath the waistband, squeezing lightly at the hardness he finds there. Hubert groans into his mouth, moving his hands to grasp at the firm muscle of his backside as Ferdinand teases him out of his smallclothes. Hubert pulls at the paltry bit of fabric Ferdinand wore for the occasion, and he quickly steps out of it, seating himself on Hubert’s thighs once more. He runs lance-calloused fingertips down the length of Hubert’s cock, grasping it in his palm, wrapping his fingers around the girth, applying just the right amount of pressure he knew would bring those pleased sighs and quiet hums of approval from Hubert’s throat. 

Hubert pulls a hand from his ear and tugs the glove off between his teeth, reaching for a vial on nightstand. He uncorks the bottle with a practiced ease and uses the oil inside to coat his fingers. He reaches behind Ferdinand again and presses the pad of a fingertip to the ring of sensitive flesh there. Ferdinand relaxes against the pressure, and feels Hubert press inside. He feels the faint burning sensation for only a moment before Hubert’s kissing down his chest, flicking his tongue across a pert nipple, paying it special attention.  
  
Ferdinand keens, rocking against the fingers inside him as Hubert brings his free hand to grope at his chest, squeezing the muscle there, twisting a nipple between still-gloved fingers. He gives a sharp nip to the other side and Ferdinand gasps, caught in the overwhelming sensation of Hubert’s fingers scissoring him open, his lips on his chest, and that tight press of fabric against his ribs, making each breath just a little harder, leaving him just the faintest bit winded. 

“Please,” he interrupts, aware of the desperate tone to his voice, torn between pressing back into Hubert’s fingers or up into his mouth. “Please, Hubert. It’s enough. Please-”

Hubert pulls away, and Ferdinand nearly whines at the loss of sensation, but then Hubert is scooting them back against the headboard, pressing the vial into Ferdinand’s hands. Ferdinand takes his time preparing Hubert’s cock, tracing the tips of his fingers over all the right places, paying special attention to the spot beneath the head he knew would make Hubert groan out loud. Hubert does, and Ferdiand can’t help but grin, feeling a bit impish.  
  
“You insufferable tease,” Hubert says without malice, bringing his hands to rest at Ferdinand’s hips once more. Ferdinand can’t think of a proper quip before Hubert’s lifting him, pressing the head of his cock along his entrance, mind suddenly devoid of coherent thought. He takes Hubert in hand, lining them up, and slowly, finally, sinks down into his lap. Both of them moan at the shared sensation, and Ferdinand marvels at the fullness of Hubert pressing into him from the inside, the compression of the corset pressing from without. 

It’s indescribable. 

“O-oh, Hubert,” he exhales, adjusting, pressing downward until Hubert is fully sheathed within him. It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve been together like this, Ferdinand is sure he’ll never tire of that first burning heat pushing into him. 

“Hmmm,” Hubert is pressing lips to his collarbone, trailing down to tease at his nipples once more, and Ferdinand pulls his head further into his chest, using the other hand to brace himself against Hubert’s shoulder. He rocks in Hubert’s lap experimentally, satisfied with the soft groan Hubert muffles into his chest. Lifting up halfway, he presses downward, seating himself again, then pulls out to just the tip before slamming back down, drawing a loud groan from both of them. He builds up a rhythm, riding Hubert at a slow, agonizing pace, wanting to savor every stretch, every feeling of Hubert pressing inside of him. 

Hubert’s hands come up to rest on his waist, tightly cinched, and Ferdinand delights in the firm grip against his torso. He’s briefly disappointed he can’t feel the bruising press of Hubert’s fingertips through the layers of stiff fabric and boning, but then Hubert is pulling the tie at his back loose. Ferdinand nearly stops to question, but before the thought is on the tip of his tongue Hubert’s winding the ribbon around his hands and _pulling_ tight. 

“A-ah! Hubert!” Ferdinand feels himself shouting, and the rigid compression leaves him nearly breathless. Hubert thrusts up to meet Ferdinand’s rocking, driving into him faster, and Ferdinand cries out louder. He steadies himself on Hubert’s shoulders, pushing their lips together, coaxing Hubert into his mouth as he pushes back against Hubert’s cock inside of him, meeting his thrusts, losing himself in the motions.

“Hubert-” he gasps against his lips, “Hubert, pull it tighter, please, I need to feel it.” He feels himself babbling but finds he can’t bring himself to care, particularly when Hubert pulls the satin ribbon tighter, fucking up into him at a near brutal pace. He can’t think, can hardly breathe, can only _feel_ , feel the drag of Hubert’s cock driving into him, the suffocating press of the corset against his skin. Hubert sinks his teeth into the side of his throat and it’s finally too much. Ferdinand feels orgasm overtake him, coming untouched, burying his face against the side of Hubert’s head, shouting his release into soft waves of dark hair. Hubert fucks him through his orgasm, dropping the laces, gripping Ferdinand’s hands tightly as he finds his own release. 

Ferdinand falls against his chest, trying to catch his breath, still tight in his chest. He’s unable to slump the way his body so desperately wants in the restricting garment, and Hubert doesn’t fail to notice (bless the man), working deft fingers to relax the lacing at his back, pulling Ferdinand up to release the clasps at the busk, tossing the corset to the floor. 

Ferdinand rolls to the side, collapsing next to him, and Hubert turns over to kiss him, firm but slow, deliberate, bringing a hand up to card long fingers through copper hair. Ferdinand melts into the touch, cradling Hubert’s cheek in his own hand, sighing in contentment.

“How are you feeling?” Hubert asks when they part, still running hands through the soft waves, carefully shaking out any snags and smoothing them out along the pillow 

“Mmmm… exquisite,” Ferdinand smiles, eyes twinkling. “And yourself?”

“Likewise satiated,” Hubert quirks his lips in that half-smile Ferdinand can’t help but want to kiss, and so he does. 

They lay there together for several minutes, coming down from their highs. “We really should get you cleaned,” Hubert says finally. Running a finger through the mess of cum on his chest, bringing his finger to his lips to lick Ferdinand’s spend clean from it. 

“Ughhh, keep doing that and no one will ever get clean in here…” Ferdinand says, exasperated, waving a tired hand at Hubert’s face.

“I can think of other ways to spend the remainder of the evening,” Hubert answers easily, pressing those same fingers against Ferdinand’s lower lip. Ferdinand’s flicks his tongue out to swipe across the digits, as if on instinct, and Hubert smiles at the impulse.

“Oh?” Ferdiand grins, “I am _very_ interested in hearing these opportunities.”

Hubert kisses the top of his forehead, the side of his temple, then plunges down for his lips again. Ferdinand sighs into it, pulling him close, certain he won’t be sleeping for some time yet. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's not historically accurate but brocade is much sexier than linen, don't @ me. Also, Hubert follows proper corset-tying practice - lace responsibly, folks <3
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Please come scream @ me about ferdibert on twitter [@tetheaiia](https://twitter.com/tetheaIIa), I am a thirsty flower.


End file.
